Disclaimer: See my profile.
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'Baseball Fever'
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I think I like baseball. For someone who is as into statistical probabilities as I am, baseball is a dream sport. There are statistics for batting average, on base percentage, slugging percentage, base stealing, strikes versus balls, right handed hitters versus right handed pitchers, right handed hitters versus left handed pitchers, left handed hitters versus right handed pitchers, left handed hitters versus left handed pitchers, fly balls versus ground balls, how often a ball is hit to right, center or left field, and on and on. If you can name something that can be done in baseball there is probably a statistic somewhere for it. Left-handed pitcher Randy Johnson once struck a bird with a ninety-five mile an hour pitch when the bird flew between him and the batter at just the right moment. A television show called 'Sports Science' once calculated the astronomical statistical probably of something like that happening. The chances of hitting a bird with a pitch the way Johnson did are less than the chances of hitting the Powerball.
I actually look a little like Randy Johnson; he's six foot eight and slender; I'm six foot one and a half and very slender. Neither one of us looks like we have any power, yet Johnson is one of the greatest strikeout pitchers of all time. He even hit a home run once, and pitched a perfect game; both of these feats occurring after the age of forty.
I can hold my own physically when I need to. Some baseball players' look like they have a lot of power, others don't; yet some of the smaller guys in baseball are also powerful hitters. I don't get it. Morgan keeps telling me there is a lot of 'heart' involved in baseball and other sports, and that it's also important to love the game itself, as well as to love playing it. He tells me heart and the love of the game is at least as important as how powerful you are, or how much natural talent you have. He asks me why I think some fans turn out game after game, season after season when their favorite team lost more games than they won. I tell him I don't know why, and he tells me until I can figure that out I will never truly appreciate why baseball is America's past time.
I am not an athlete, even though one of the memories I do have of my father before he left me and my mother is of him coaching my Little League team and trying to get me to play. I was never much good at it, though if I had continued playing I might have gotten better. Hand-eye coordination is extremely important in baseball, and goodness knows my coordination can be unpredictable at times. Look at Ted Williams, who is considered one of the greatest hitters of all time. He didn't look like he would have a lot of power, though it was said his eyesight was so good he could see the stitches on the baseball as it came at him. You can be a powerful athlete, but if you can't coordinate your hands to swing when your eyes see the ball coming at you like Ted Williams could, you might as well not even bother trying to hit a baseball. Everyone I know would probably agree I am not the most coordinated person who ever lived; therefore I'm not sure I want to even try to hit a baseball.
Baseball is also a sport of angles and distance and superstition; if you can figure out how to connect with the ball properly it goes a long way, and maybe even flies out of the ball park for a home run. If you are quick and can master how to make a turn on a ninety degree angle you can round the bases faster and advance more quickly. It would also make stealing second or third base easier. From what I can tell baseball fans love home runs, and they love to scramble to try and catch a home run ball. Players run very quickly to try and catch balls hit at them and react amazingly fast to throw to other players to catch the opponents and tag them out. Athletes in general are superstitious, but baseball players are the worst. I could write an entire psychological discourse on the superstitions of baseball players! Maybe that's something I should investigate further?
Yes, I've been watching baseball games on television the last few weeks since the 2010 season started! I am starting to find this game to be quite interesting. Morgan is telling me I need to get out and actually see a game in person. There's nothing like being there in the stands with the fans and smelling the fresh cut grass and feeling the breeze on your face, he tells me. It's not like I couldn't find a team to go and watch play. Within a relatively close distance we have the American League Baltimore Orioles and the National League Washington Nationals. Within a relatively short plane or train ride we also have the New York Mets, the New York Yankees and the Philadelphia Phillies. I have a couple days off coming up, maybe I will take Morgan's advice and go to a game in person. I connect to the Internet and find the home page for the Washington Nationals. I look for upcoming home games on their schedule and find a three game series with the Arizona Diamondbacks is starting in a few days. I reserve myself a pair of tickets and then set about trying to convince someone to go to the game with me.
The day of the game Morgan meets me at a nearby train station and can't help laughing when he sees me. I am wearing a brand new Washington Nationals baseball cap and tee shirt, and I also am carrying a brand new baseball glove. I have not owned a baseball glove since my less than stellar attempts to play Little League baseball. He teases me about being prepared, and we set out on our way.
Once we are at the ball park it does not take long for me to start understanding what he has been trying to tell me. It's definitely not the same as watching the game on television. I can smell the grass and feel the breeze on my face; and even the popcorn and peanuts we have purchased seem to taste differently than they do if I eat them at home. I try to follow what's going on, but it's not as easy as I thought it would be. Baseball does not move as fast as basketball does, for example; but you do have to keep track of balls and strikes and the number of outs per inning. Arizona comes up in the top half of the fourth inning, with their third baseman Mark Reynolds as the leadoff hitter. The score is zero to zero, but not for long. Reynolds is considered one of the games up and coming power hitters, and he gives us all an example of why that is the case. He connects with the ball on the third pitch and it easily sails over the left field wall and almost directly at where Morgan and I are sitting. I find myself reaching out for the ball and before I even realize I've done it, the home run ball is landing in my brand new glove. I look at the ball in my glove with my mouth open as Morgan and random fans around me congratulate me and slap me on the back. Okay, now I get it. Now I begin to understand why so many people like this game so much. I turn to Morgan and ask him if he would like to come to another game with me tomorrow.
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